Story of Unfortunate Events
by DarkAngelSnapeLover
Summary: A little tragedy that has nothing to do with the book, though both sets of people have same types of lives: horrible. R&R if you have time


_**A Story of Unfortunate Events**_

_My Version_

**Author's Note/ Summary: This is not something based off the 'Series of Unfortunate Events', but it is my own series. It starts with Jonathon, but more should come later. Jonathon's story: born an orphan addicted to drugs, he spends life in a boys' home and then in a city he was forced into. Is it sad? Yes. Is it rated M for a reason? Hell yes. But, enjoy it anyway. Now, for part one. Other parts to be added later

PART ONE: JONATHON LEVI DAVIS

CHAPTER ONE: CHILDHOOD

I was born addicted to crack and tobacco, yet I survived to be placed into the care of my state's DFCS system. They were good to me and even found me a few homes while I was an infant, but those never worked out.

When I was three, I was placed into the first home I could remember. It belonged to a small family with a little girl about my age, and she hated me. She would throw things at me and intentionally make my cry, because that was how she wanted things to be: she's alone, and I'm all by myself somewhere else.

Needless to say, that home didn't last long. The parents soon turned against my too because I was too "wild and ruleless" to them (like they even tried to teach me). So, it was back a new place: a boys' home. Older boys would pick on me, younger boys would stare, and the boys my age would put bad thoughts into my mind.

Luckily, when I was eight they sent me to another family. This family was huge with about sixteen kids ranging from infant to teenagers, and none of them liked me. The older boys would have to make my dinner sometimes and they put poison in my food, making me sick. Their parents thought I was a sickly child and no one told them, so they took me back to the boys' home, where everyone laughed and made fun of me.

After that incident, I never went anywhere else, except school, which wasn't much to talk about. My childhood was slow and painful, but soon it opened to the worst torture of all: the real world.

CHAPTER TWO: THE EARLY YEARS

At eighteen, I was given a box to put my few belongings in. The state was kicking me out of the system and into a big city where some run-down apartments were enough for them to pay rent on until I was twenty-five (and hopefully out of their hair).

When I left, I had no idea what I was doing. A social worker was supposed to tell me how everything worked, but she told me I had too many questions and that I should figure things out on my own. I thought, "Why would I want to do that?", but she kicked me out before I could ask her.

At the apartment, I learned about roaches. We had some in the boys' home, but it was nothing like this. And the rats, they were bigger than the dogs I saw walking on the street below. I had to live with them, sleeping on the floor with them, eating on the floor with them, and showering with them in a bucket. I let my hair grow long, and I only took to the streets at night. I hated people, and they hated me, so I kept the two separated.

When I was twenty I met my first hooker. I had fifty bucks in my pocket, and she was willing to do the basics with me (or rather I was willing to do anything with her, but with only fifty, that was all she could do). She taught me about sex, and I learned about exactly what my dick could do, but she didn't let it do much. In the end, I got a disease from her and I was horny all the time. I thought about taking some of the rats in my apartment and making a bitch out of one, but they'd only look at me like I was crazy whenever I would try to catch one. In other words, I stuck to my hand.

When I was old enough to buy alcohol, I bought my first beer in a bar. Some guys heard me talking to the bartender, and they agreed to help me get drunk my first time. Once the room started spinning, they took me out back and beat me up pretty bad, and the cops found me and thought I was homeless and tried to take me in for charges, but once they got a call from a social worker (after jailing me and tasering me) everything was worked out and I was driven home.

At home, the rats and roaches were gone thanks to an exterminator, but I paid for it the hard way. The very next morning, I woke up with flying bugs throughout the place, so bad that I went and spent the day in Central Park. It was there I met Katrina, and she helped me find somewhere to stay and find a job. My life was turning up, or maybe reaching it was climactic ending.

CHAPTER THREE: KATRINA

Katrina and I spent three months together before we started "going out", which is the part before dating. She and I would use what little money we had to buy ice cream on the really hot days, at least when we were off. We worked together for her father, and though he was nice, he was also strict.

After about seven months, we went to the movies for the first time (or rather her sister's condo in New Jersey that had a movie theatre inside) and that's when we started dating, or rather making out. We kissed throughout the entire movie, and it was amazing. That night, we spent the night there, and after he sister left at one in the morning for work, we found her condoms and used them, if you catch my drift, but there was a major problem in this story. You see, Katrina never told me some things about herself that should have been told in the beginning, like the fact that she had a penis. She asked me to do it doggy style, and I said 'whatever', and then she gave me a condom. She was wearing a skirt, so she kept it on while I took off my pants. I read the condom before putting it on. It was one of those special anal condoms, and I thought 'maybe that's all she had', but they were hers. I put it on and aimed towards where her opening should be, but I hit skin.

"Honey, you have to do it in my butt," she whispered. I looked a little closer.

"You're a man! I'm not having sex with you!" I yelled. **He** grabbed me and held me onto the bed with my back upwards. I heard tape rip (that was how it looked like a she, if you catch my drift), and then she ass raped me. It took a while for him to get to where he was going if you know what I mean, then he made me do him. By make me, I mean 'gun in my face'. So, I ass fucked him, and…I liked it. He made me hold onto his…uh-hmm…and he came onto my hand. He said that brought us closer, but I'm not sure.

When it was over, Katrina (rather Kevin) told me that she wanted to see me again, if I was willing. The only problem was that saying 'no' would leave me with nothing. The state took back their fire trap, and I moved in right next door to 'her'. So, I said yes, but I didn't kiss 'her' again, I just stared when 'she' tried, and prayed it would never happen again.

The worst part about it was that I didn't know, so then I had to look like the bad person. I ended up starting to look for other places to live, but I couldn't afford anything. When 'her' father found out what happened, he just nodded and told me that I should've known, but I had no idea and I told him so. He shrugged and walked away, holding back laughter if you ask me. So now I was dating a man. Lovely, right? No…because I fell for him. I started to like what we were doing, and when 'she' asked me if I was willing to get married, I said yes. So, I married a 'man', and things never got any better. We tried adopting, but couldn't. We tried moving away from New York, but couldn't. In the end, I died alone. Katrina cheated on me and caught AIDS, and 'her' death shocked me, until I figured out what it was, then it scared me. I had to get tested and be alone. My life was not going well.

CHAPTER FOUR: MY DEMISE

My test came back positive. They wanted to put me on treatment, but my insurance wouldn't cover it. They offered it through charity, but I still refused. Katrina never took anything, so I didn't either.

After a two month battle with AIDS, it went full-blown and killed me within a week. I caught the flu from some other tenants, and I died about two days later. No one was at my funeral; Katrina's father hated me and only kept me around because of something in Katrina's will, and I had no friends. So, I died alone, just like I was born. It just comes to show you that life really does work in mysterious, terrible ways.


End file.
